


On Angel's Wings

by maddie_amber



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddie_amber/pseuds/maddie_amber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl drabble.  My reaction to the MSF "Coda".  Death is but the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Angel's Wings

“Daddy?”

“I’m here, Bethy.”

“I can’t see you.”

“Just follow my voice. We’ve been waiting for you.

“We?”

“Your momma and me. Shawn is here too.”

“Maggie?” 

“Not yet. Keep walking. You’re getting closer. There. I’ve got you.”

Hershel’s warm strong arms wrapped around her, comforting her as they always had. She lay her head on his chest, could hear the powerful beat of his heart, could feel the rise and fall of his chest. She felt safe for the first time…for the first time since she had been taken from Daryl. 

“Daddy,” she said, her voice choking, barely a whisper around the knot in her throat. “I didn’t even get to say good bye.”

“I know, baby girl. I know. That’s the part that hurts the most. “

“I never got to tell Daryl. I never got to tell him. I loved him.” She felt a sob well in her chest, the grief crushing her. “Oh, Daddy.” 

“There, there, Bethy,” her father said soothingly, his hand gently rubbing her back. “You don’t have long to wait.”

“What do you mean?” she said, lifting her head and actually seeing her father for the first time. There was a gentle smile on his face, his snowy white beard and hair aglow like a halo. 

“Time is a funny thing here.”

“What do you mean?” she asked again. 

“Just listen.”

And she heard a voice. A whisper. Distant, ethereal, choked with grief and longing. The sound tore at her heart, cutting her to the core of her soul, carried across the ages, across infinity, across life and death itself. 

“Beth?”

She felt her body stiffen in her father’s arms. Then she pulled away and turned, looking into the milky whiteness. 

“Call to him, child,” Hershel said softly. “Call. So he can find you. He’ll follow your voice. He’s looking for you.”

“But, Daddy, I just…”

“I said time was a funny thing here. Call. Call his name.”

“Daryl?” she said tentatively. At first there was only silence.

“Call again,” Hershel said encouragingly. 

“Daryl,” she said more forcefully. 

“Beth?”

“Follow my voice. I’m here. I’m waiting.” She felt her father’s hand on her shoulder giving her a firm squeeze, moments before she saw him, a shadow in the mist, an unmistakable silhouette. She felt her father gently push her forward. Then she was running, flying, straight into his arms. Straight into Daryl’s arms. Into the arms of the man she loved. And she was wrapped in an embrace she never thought she would feel. One she would feel for as long as time itself.


End file.
